Love is For Children
by Stella Marshal
Summary: Natasha and Peter... It's not just a Spider Thing. It's a Mother-Son thing
1. Warsaw, Poland - 1996

Warsaw, Poland -1996

The hotel smelled moldy and stale but underneath was the metallic tang of blood. Natasha's body still ached from the trauma of the delivery. With her minutes old son curled sleeping in her arms, she thought about the past few months.

No one at the Red Room had known she was pregnant when she left. Result of her last mission. When she missed her period twice, she had scheduled an appointment at a clinic. An appointment the mission required her to miss it. And the next one and the one after that. Finally she gave up, and waited for the inevitable.

She should get rid of him. Better to kill him now than to subject him to the hell that was the Red Room. Any child of hers would go no place else. But he looked so peaceful, cuddling against her. Her beautiful baby boy.

Tasha was never the sentimental type. Nobody lasted in this business if they were. But just looking at him, those tiny fingers, that perfect nose, she wanted him to have everything. Make him happy and never have him worry about a single thing. Give him the world and every star in the sky. To give him a real family and everything that came with it. Everything he deserved and she never had. Everything she could never give him.

BANG!

The cheap hotel door splintered as it was kicked in, and a man and woman rush in guns drawn. The Parkers, they had been after her for months. The baby started screaming at the top of his lungs. Tasha pulled the gun out of the nightstand, wrapping her free arm around her son. They both surveyed the scene, taking in Tasha and her son sitting on blood-stained sheets.

Richard stepped forward, lowering his gun, "Relax, we don't want you. Where's your handler?"

"Not here, Parker." Tasha answered "He hasn't been here for months."

Mary spoke up now "Is it his?" She gestured at the child in Tasha's arms.

Tasha bristled "**He** is mine." She stated icily. "That's all that matters."

Richard holstered his weapon "Than we have nothing here. Let's go Mary."

As the couple turned to leave, they cast one last glance at the whimpering infant in Tasha's lap.

"Wait."

The Parkers looked at her, confused. Tasha kneeled on the bedspread.

"Take him." She stated calmly, holding out the little bundle.

They looked at her like she was crazy.

"I know about the miscarriage." Tasha stated.

Mary stiffened slightly; Richard wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Five months past and still a touchy topic.

Tasha continued, "I know you. I've read your files. I know you were all set to retire with your baby after this mission." She drew a breathe. "Take him, say he's yours. No one will ever know the difference." She proffered the bundle again.

Mary took the baby, rocking gently to quiet his whimpering. Richard leaned in to examine the boy's face, touching one round cheek.

Richard glanced up. "Why would up give him up?" he said accusingly.

Tasha stared at her hands, "I can't have him live the life I lead. He didn't do anything to deserve that."

She looked up. Richard looked at her, something close to pity in his eyes. He nodded, and touched Mary's arm. She glanced between Tasha and the baby, than she nodded, too. They turned to leave. Tasha slumped into the bedding, exhausted.

Richard turned back to her one last time, "Does he have a name?"

Tasha hadn't considered.

"Peter. His name is Peter."


	2. SHIELD Helicarrier - 2012

I wasn't going to update for another day or two but you guys are so nice. Thank you for all the favorites and follows.

Stan Lee is the God in Human from who owns the Black Widow, Avengers, and Spider-man. I am not.

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**SHIELD Helicarrier, North Atlantic – 2012**

Natasha Romanoff stared at the sea that shimmered miles beneath her. This was the first time since the Invasion of New York that Fury had gathered all the Avengers together. The call was short, just the order to come in for debriefing. She and Clint had hopped the next transport to HQ and were now waiting for Fury to arrive. She could see the reflection of Steve's nervous fingers in the widow. He couldn't stop playing with his sketchbook.

"What do you think Director Fury wants anyway?" He asked the room.

"He probably wants to shoot us in space," Tony didn't even look up from his Starkpad, (patent pending). "Or invade Latveria. Something tedious and involving far too much paperwork."

Thor's Golden eyebrows drew together, "You Midgardians have a strange idea of Tedium."

"It's probably just another press conference," Bruce supplied, ever the voice of reason. Or at least the voice of hopefulness. "Lord knows, we done enough of those."

"_Tony_'s done enough of those for all of us." Clint corrected. "Fury won't call the whole team together for trivia like that." He put both hands on the table, hunching over, "It must be the WSC again. Why else would we be here?"

The WSC was still a sore spot with Clint. Even after they lost a big chunk of power after the whole Megaton Midtown incident, they had still managed to lock Clint in the Vault for three weeks until a friend of Bruce's got him straightened out. On the plus side, Dr. Samson had made a fine addition to the SHEILD Psych Corps, once the Gamma Radiation poisoning cleared up and they got rid of all the canaries.

"Oh come on, Robin Hood," Tony drawled, "Not everything is about you going over to the Dark Side."

Clint glared at the Billionaire, who was still playing with his iPad knock-off. "What do you know, Mr. Consultant?"

"I'd wager," Tony stated simply, "Considerably more than you." Pointing at Clint, "And You," Steve, "You, too." Herself. "Maybe you," Thor. "Not You." Bruce.

Clint shoved it off. "You made know tech but you got nothing on politics. I think we all saw your Congressional testimony."

"A brilliant display of our Corporate-Legal system, don't you think?" He retorted.

The conversation was devolving into a snarking match. Natasha didn't spare a glance for the five men in the room. She hadn't said anything, not even to Clint. It just sounded so stupid and self-centered. Feelings aside, she was certain. From the moment Fury had called her, Natasha knew that one of her ghosts had come back to haunt her. The question was which one?

The door at the head of the room swished out. Nat turned to face the assembled men. Clint and Tony were standing on the table again in the middle of an argument. Steve and Thor were quietly placing bets. Bruce had that looked like he didn't know whether he wanted to Hulk out or jump off the Helicarrier.

Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD, placed both hands on his hips and waited for the assembled superheroes calm down. The Clint and Steve quickly jumped into place. Tony slucked back into his chair, defeated and defiant in the way only Tony Stark can be. Nat sat primly nest to Thor who was smiling and counting a fistful of cash. Fury pinched the bridge of his nose. He had the tired, heavy-lidded look he usually got when something new decided it was time to wreck a little havoc.

"Glad to know the fate of the world rests in such competent team." He observed.

He looked flatly at the six of them for a second than shook his head.

"I've called you here for something very important." Fury stated,

"It's the WCS, isn't it?" Clint demanded, "If they're threating…"

"Agent Barton," Nick interrupted, "I understand your feelings but this has nothing to do with the WSC. I suppose you don't all remember the supposed terrorist attack at Oscorp a few weeks before the Invasion?"

"Of course I do." Tony drawled, grinning, "I always smile when I think about that. It couldn't have happen to a nicer son of a bitch than Stormin' Norman Osborn."

"Well, you should be happier to hear no terrorist attack. It was a superhuman incident." Fury drew a stack of photographs from the center of the file. "One that involved this man," he passed half to Steve who took one and passed the rest on. "Dr. Curt Connors, one of the foremost experts in Trans-species genetics and" Fury passed the other photo around "the masked superhuman vigilante know as Spider-man."

Natasha took a good look at the photographs. One showed a middle-aged man, blond, bespectacled, and missing his right arm. The other was a wiry figure, dressed in a garish red and blue full-body suit with wide shiny eyes. No prizes for guessing who was who.

Clint looked up at Fury, "So, What happened?"

"So, Connors injected himself with a formula that turned him into a giant fucking lizard." Fury replied. "The SHIELD response team was all ready to go in when Connors got his ass handed to him by some than unknown Superhuman."

Fury waved a hand vaguely, "I was going to start an investigation but you all know what happened."

The Avengers nodded. They couldn't forget Loki's Invasion; no matter how had some of them tried.

Fury continued "In the months after the Oscorp incident, Spider-man has been acting as the self-appointed guardian of New York City. You six are going to find him and bring him into SHIELD before he…"

"Makes SHIELD look inadequate." Tony interjected.

"Hurts himself…" Fury replied. "Or the police or one of the eight million of people in New York. We had one officer Dead and Thirty in the hospital after Oscorp. It took a good chunk of my not inconsiderable resources and public opinion to keep the NYPD from shooting him on sight."

He stood sharply, "Like it or not, Spider-man is the newest addition to the Avengers Initiate." Fury slammed the file in his hand shut.

There was no room for argument.

"Doctor Banner and Thor will stay back at the Field Command," Fury continued, "I will not have the Mayor of New York screaming in my ear at three in the morning again. Romanoff, Barton, Rogers, and Stark will go in and drag him back here if you have to. He's in Midtown Manhattan. Dismissed."

There was a great scarping of chairs as the team left to put on their various combat gear. Natasha snuck a last look at the photos. Even though this had nothing to do with her, even if it was impossible, she still couldn't shake the feeling this lead back to her.


	3. Midtown Manhattan

Thank you for a the favorites and follows. It's always good to get feedback on a story. Feel free to drop a review.

This is set in a mix of the MCU and Amazing Spider-man Universes with some stuff I just threw in for fun. Some elements are non-canon. If you couldn't already tell.

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**Midtown Manhattan**

_"How did my life end up like this?"_ Peter Parker thought as the latest blast of electricity came his way.

Six months ago he had been just a normal high school student. Well, just a relatively normal high school student. Past year? No such luck. Found that suitcase containing Paranoid Ramblings and Genius Scientific Work by his long deceased Parents. Check. Went looking into his parent's rather untraceable past. Check. Met Dr. Connors, a Scientific Genius and Family friend His Aunt and Uncle conveniently forgot to mention. Double Check. Got SUPERPOWERS. TRIPLE check. Uncle Ben died? His Fault. Fought a Giant Mutated Lizard on a skyscraper. Totally been there, done that. Captain Stacy? Also his Fault. Now here he was trying to stop a fashionably challenged Bank Robber who somehow got Electric Powers.

Peter landed on a water tower,

"Seriously, out of all the names in the world, you chose Electro." He drawled "Could you be any more obvious?"

Electro was practically foaming at the mouth at this point.

"SHUT UP!" He shouted.

The gaudy bank robber blanketed the roof with electricity. Peter grabbed the water hose, flipped off the tower, and blasted the villain with a high pressure stream.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" He shouted, throwing off sparks.

Peter landed next to the green and yellow clad man and reached out. The tingling on the back of his neck told him not to touch. The water still crackled with electricity.

"AHHHHHHH? Seriously!" He snarked, "Ya couldn't just short out? Now how am I gonna get you to your nice comfy rubber cell?" Peter asked the unconscious body.

"Don't worry about that." A voice said behind him. "We'll be taking both of you in."

Peter spun around to see a blond man in a dark jumpsuit pointing a bow and arrow at him. The man was a complete mystery. The circular Eagle Patch on his shoulder looked familiar.

"And what if I don't want to come in, Legolas?" Peter asked.

"Not gonna happen kid," He smirked. "Peacefully or in pieces. Your Choice." He raised his bow.

Peter crouched and cocked his head, "I choose to…kick your ass."

With that he leapt forward. The man pulled off three shots from his bow. Peter dodged every arrow the man fired off. He knocked the bow out the archer's hands and broke it for good measure. The man dropped down and pulled a knife out of his boot. He took several swipes at him. the red and blue superhero rolled away from them. Peter punched him in the chest and knocked him flat. The archers head hit the roof with a sicking smack.

"Now, Now Hot Pants. Leave the nice man alone."

Peter spun around to see Tony Stark hovering a few feet away in his Iron Man Suit.

Stark continued conversationally, "We only just got his brain back in working order."

"You call that working?" Peter replied caustically.

"He's government issue. What do you expect?"

"Come on, even the government can do better than that."

"Budget Cuts. They had to get him second hand from a circus."

The man on the ground groaned "Will you quit with the jawing and grab the kid!"

Iron Man shrugged and sent a repulsor beam in his general direction. Peter barely dodged it. The air where he had just stood sparked with raw energy. He needed to get the advantage or he was burn toast. He jumped off the rooftop, webbing away; Iron Man in hot pursuit. Peter swung left and right. Stark stayed right on his heels. Finally he swung a one eighty and pulled his web like a bungee cord. He sprang into the air and twisted to fall directly on the back of Stark's suit. The Wall-crawler punched down. The panel came free with lots of wires and worrley-bits attached. He examined it carefully as they began to fall.

"Well, this looks important." He quipped, than he tossed it over his shoulder.

He shot a web out to a water tower and threw Stark down to safety. Stark got up on one knee and shot at Peter again. Peter closed the distance and grabbed both of Stark's gauntlets, crushing them in his hands. One last kick to the head and Stark went down for the count right next to the bow and arrow guy.

"This day could not get weirder." Peter said to the clouds.

An ice cold gun muzzle pressed to his spine.

"Oh, it's about to get so much weirder." A female voice said behind him.

Peter spun to see The Black Widow holding the gun. She was smiling sweetly at him. Just the way Aunt May did when he had done something naughty and she had an extra special punishment.

"You beat up my partner." She said nicely.

"I take it you're the more photogenic of the couple?" Peter asked.

She fired five times point-blank. The gun-shots rang in his ears as Peter dodged them.

"What was that for?" He demanded.

She reloaded her gun, "I told you beat my partner."

She was scary calm.

Peter's lips twitched under his mask. "Sure, When a grown man attacks a kid, the natural response is to try to kill said kid." He replied offhand.

The Black Widow looked at him flatly, "When said kid is a Metahuman with a precognitive sense than shooting at him is no harm done."

Peter cocked his head. "True."

And he swept his leg under her's. She jumped back and leveled her gun again. Peter jumped up and grabbed it. Crushed it in his hand and tossed it away. Widow threw a couple punches his way. Peter dodged them, noticing the tazer prongs built into them.

Peter flipped back and landed near the roof ledge. "Your stings I suppose." He gestured at the gloves.

She smiled at him and twitched her head a little. An invitation to strike but Peter wasn't biting. She ran at him and he dodged. The Widow overshot it and almost went over. Peter grabbed her quickly, and she swung a punch at his head. Spider-sense moved him out of the way with time to spare but he had to let go. As she fell of the edge, Peter rushed to try and catch her with his web line. There she was. Sticking to the wall under the ledge, smiling at him.

Peter glared at her. "Wall Crawling's my schist, you know." He jumped back as she flipped back on to the roof. "Can you say copyright infringement?"

"Sorry kid." She settled into a ninja's crouch. "I've been wall crawling since before you were born."

Peter scoffed. "I doubt that, lady."

The Widow smiled, "Since 1947?" She asked.

Peter was nonplussed. "Ninety-one. And you don't look a day over seventy-five." He remarked.

She sent a kick at him. Her boot swept so close, her toe brushed his nose. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Electro, still sparking. A crazy, wonderful idea started to form. He pulled back, edging to the still crackling water. Her close victory clouded the Spy's judged. The Widow was too focused on trying to get past his Spider-Sense to worry about the terrain. When she took her next swing, Peter took his chance. A quick motion was all he needed to trap her wrist and pushed her into the puddle of water that held Electro. She connected for barely a second but it was more than enough. When he pulled her back, she was out cold. Peter dropped her limp body by her partner.

He looked up at the New York City Skyline and yelled, arms wide,

"Well, I'm waiting. Come on. Send whoever else you want at me. I can take 'em."

The universe wasted no time.

"Well, son, I guess that would be me." A male voice spoke.

Peter spun to face it and got an eye full of very gaudy red, white, and blue. Captain America was standing, shield raised and knees bent, ready for a fight. Peter walked right up to him, raised his fists. And fell limp on the ledge, head in his hands.

"I can't do it." He said ruefully. "I can't beat up Captain America."

Cap plopped down next to him.

"And why not?" He asked pleasantly.

Peter looked at him. "You're like my favorite Superhero ever. I own every comic they ever printed about you."

Cap looked genuinely embarrassed by this. His cheeks were flushed bright red.

"Plus the papers hate me too much already. If I beat you up, they'll have a virtual lynch mob after me." Peter added.

"Oh, you're kidding me."

Stark had managed wiggled his way out of his armor while Peter was distracted.

"Okay, group vote. Next time we have to apprehend a wayward superhero, we send in the big red, white, and blue Boy Scout first and see if they're a fan."

There was a mumble of agreement from the other two as they picked themselves off the ground. They all looked at Cap and Peter as they stood up and walked over. The man in the jumpsuit picked up his broken bow and stowed it in his quiver.

Peter looked back at them, and said jauntily, "Well, this is it. I have one request. When you reprogram me, please allow me to have a good chunk of my IQ. I'm not as good a fighter without it. And could you find a way for me to keep my sense of responsibility. It's kind of important."

All four adults looked at him like he was nuts.

Stark finally asked, "Are you serious?"

Peter slumped a little, "Don't fool with me. I've heard of SHIELD. I know what you guys do to unregistered metahumans." he said resigned. "You take them and you edit their brains until their work for you."

Cap looked disturbed, Stark smug, bow man confused, and the Widow was twitching.

Cap began, "Kid…"

A grunt from behind and a blast electricity flew at the Widow. He didn't think, just knocked her out of the way and took the full brunt of the blast. There was yelling and clanking but Peter only floated down into the darkness.


	4. SHIELD Medical

**Hi Guys. Thanks you all for your support. FYI there will be some hints dropped about Peter's father, who will be very important to the sequel that I will eventually write. So if you figure it out, be good fans and don't spoil it for the others.**

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**Manhattan - The Trisculon Building, Medical Wing**

When Peter Parker woke up, he was wrapped in soft warmth and blinded by the light.

"_Oh, boy. It's finally happened."_ Peter thought. _"My dangerous, reckless, incredibly stupid hobby has finally killed me. This is the prefect beginning to the week."_

Peter managed to sit up with a groan. His ribs were killing him. Blinking away the light spots on his eyes, he took in where he would be spending the rest of eternity.

"Oh, crap. I've gone to Hell."

Staring back at him were six very shocked superheroes and a couple of guys that Peter just couldn't figure out right now. This was so bad. He was so beyond dead, he couldn't even begin to process this. He ran the hand not hooked up the IV drip through his short hair.

His hair.

He jumped and pulled the covers over his head.

"You took my mask off!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "You took my mask off! Why did you take my mask off?!"

He peaked out from the sheets when one of them cleared their throat. He was a stocky guy with black hair and glasses. He looked like some college biology professor. Not very Super Spyee.

"We, ah, had to make sure you were still alive." He said hesitantly. "But we didn't know you such a…"

He trailed off ineffectively.

"Squirt?" Asked the bow man.

The professor looked under his glasses, "That works."

"I don't need this." Peter said exhausted. "I am a Straight A-Student. I work for a raving lunatic to help my Aunt keep the house. I have a girlfriend. I do super-heroics on the side." He ticked off every point on his fingers. "I DO NOT NEED a bunch of shadowy government operated Supers knowing that I'm Peter Parker." He finished at the top of his lungs.

Captain America considered at him with a faint smirk. "We didn't know your name, Son."

Peter felt his face glow bright red with humiliation. Only one thing to do,

"So, this is where you do the brainwashing?" he babbled. "I always thought it would be more Late Frankenstein than this. Slimy, stone walls, Rusty metal tables with leather straps, you know the works. Or I'm I being stereotypical. I mean clichés like that just don't go in today's competitive mad-scientist market."

Now one of the men Peter had previously ignored moved to center stage. Looking at him, Peter couldn't see how he had missed him. Although, if there was one place where an armed six foot something black man dressed in head to toe black leather with an eye patch could be overlooked, it was in a room with a Norse god, a world famous Supergenius-Superhero-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist and the most decorated soldier who ever lived.

"Kid, I think you got some bad information." He said seriously. "Why don't you tell me where got the idea that we brainwash people?"

He somehow felt it would be a bad idea not to answer.

"It was about two, three weeks ago." Peter frowned, "I was chasing some spy trying to steal missile plans. I caught up to him, and ugh... kinda ripped his face off. He said SHIELD had experimented on him and if they caught me I would be in just as much trouble."

Tony Stark let out a haughty scoff "And I thought you had more sense than to believe what comes out of a Supervillian's mouth."

"Who do you think I am?" Peter scowled at him, offended, "It just got me thinking. So I started doing a little creative surfing. There about a hundred sites of ex-SHIELD employees saying everything from super-soldier experiments to engineering the Great Recession. The only one I could prove was the real deal was some guy named Sandhurst. He said that SHIELD gave him funding to create a mind control devises to create an army of obedient super-humans."

Everyone in the room looked at the one-eyed man, who sighed, shoulders slumped.

"Basil Sandhurst did work for SHIELD." He conceded. "He was also a mole for a terrorist organization called A.I.M. He used the funding we provided to brainwash half our staff. He's in the Vault. And not supposed to have access to technology of any kind, especially computers."

Another guy stepped forward. He looked like an Accountant In Black. "I'll look into that Director Fury. Don't worry."

Eye-Patch, Director Fury, nodded and turned back to Peter. The teenager for one was still a little wary of the whole thing. He was pretty sure that Fury could see it too.

"Believe me kid, if I could brainwash anyone, it would be the walking, talking migraine." He jerked his head in Tony's general direction.

"You're only saying that because you care." Stark grinned wickedly then turned to the young hero, nodding, "You're safe, kid."

An armored Avenger that could only be Thor nodded, "The Man of Iron speaks the truth. I did not trust SHIELD when I first meet them, but they are worthy allies."

Cap and Bowman nodded in agreement.

Peter started to relax a bit "Then why did you send these guys after me?" he nodded to the assembled Avengers.

"You were kinda making a mess, kid." The bowman piped up. "Someone has to teach to how to play the game."

"What Agent Barton is trying to say," The AIB stated, "is that SHIELD was going to make you one of the Avengers."

He stopped and gave Peter a once over, corners of his lips turning down in a concerned frown.

"But we may have to rethink this, Mr. Parker."

"Either way, you had better get some rest." Fury said "We'll figure something out when Medical clears you."

He clapped a heavy hand on Peter's shoulder. He looks up into Fury's one brown eye.

"I know this is confusing but we really are the good guys here." He pulled a tattered photograph from his pocket and hands it to Peter. "I hope this prove that."

Peter draws the sheet up to his chin and leans back into the hospital bed, eyes glued to the photo. His Parents, much younger, standing ankle deep in golden sand before a jeep, smiling broadly in desert camos; their arms were hooked around what looked like an equally young, two-eyed Fury. Peter looked back and forth between the photo and Fury. His head was spinning. He wasn't sure if it was the movement or the photo. Fury smiled at him; years of unspoken sadness were etched into his face.

"We'll talk later." He said, kindly.

Like that had flipped a switch, the electric buzz of adrenaline started to fade from Peter's blood. His mind still spun with a hundred questions but his eyes felt like someone had attached lead weights to them. He gently slipped the photo under his pillow before his head hit it. The last thing he saw before he was out like a light was the Black Widow gently closing the door. She was the only one hadn't spoken the entire time.

* * *

**The Avengers Towers - Penthouse**

It had become their habit. Every mission, every press conference, every time they were called together, they always had one last meeting before heading out. After New York, it was Shawrama. It had tasted like over-spiced mush to Natasha. Today, the whole team was winding down with drinks at the newly renamed Avengers Tower. And Tony wanted to know what they all thought of their newest associate. Tony and Natasha were at the bar with the rest of the Avengers were draped over various pieces of furniture around the living room.

Clint spoke up first, raising his head from the chair he collapsed in, "He's an annoying, whiny, juvenile little prankster." He let his head drop back over the armrest. He had only had three shots and he was already seriously buzzed. The bump their new associate gave him didn't help.

"You just don't like him because he broke your shiny toys and your head." Tony stated. "I like him."

Clint pointed at the ceiling, "He broke your toys, too."

Tony shrugged, "I know but he broke your toys first. And he has a great sense of humor."

Steve nodded. "He is a little rough around the edges, but he has a lot of potential. He beat three of us, with no training at all. And he has helped a lot of people."

"I agree with Steve," Bruce added, "Have you looked at his journals?"

He held up one of the journals that SHIELD had appropriated from the Parker residence.

"He has an incredible mind. He might even be smarter than his father and that's saying something."

Thor just shrugged, "I don't know what to think of the young warrior. I did not have the chance to test his mettle. I shall simply have to see."

The rest of them looked at Natasha, waiting for her opinion on the young superhero. She glared at her gin and tonic and would not look at any of them. She was lost in her own mind; her face was a featureless mask. She downed the drink in one gulp and picked up her car keys.

"We'll wait and see." She said as she walked to the elevator.

The rest of the Avengers watched her go. Clint was too out of it to notice her behavior. The rest didn't understand her enough to know something was troubling her.

* * *

**Across Town – The Trisculon Building, Medical Wing**

The SHIELD medical center was practically deserted at this time of night, which meant that Natasha only had to sneak past three nurses, two doctors and six sentries. Fury didn't want to lose his newest recruit to one of the numerous mob bosses and super-criminals he had somehow managed to piss off during his very brief tenure as a superhero, so he had stashed Peter deep in the base. Even so, it was almost childishly simple to disable the cameras in the hallway. She slipped into the room she wanted and saw her son lying still and quiet on the bed.

She hadn't seen him since he was a just a few minutes old. Now sixteen years later, he had landed right back into her life. It had taken her all of three seconds to recognize him. She had practically had a stroke when Bruce had removed his mask. Awkward, she smoothed a few strands of his dark hair. Her hand rested on his cool forehead; his steady pulse beating in her sensitive fingertips.

"_Athlete's heart."_ she thought idly.

She wondered if he always had that kind of heart or if his powers had strengthened it. She wondered how Peter got his powers in the first place. Something told her that her time spent as the Red Room's lab rat had a hand in it. Had Peter have these powers from the moment she gave him up? It was almost too convenient that the son of the Black Widow had all the strengths of one. Or had he spent more than fifteen years as an utterly normal child? What could have triggered them if he did?

"_Why had he decided to become a superhero anyway?"_ She thought angrily. _"What could be so important that he would risk his life for?"_

She didn't know why. She didn't know anything about him. Did he play football or run track? Or was more the academic type? She had repeatedly tried to forget about him; in her line of work, sentiment of any kind was enough to get you killed. If she had hesitation every time a child was involved, she'd have been dead a dozen times over already.

And yet late at night, defenses beaten down by her missions, she would look up the Parkers, scrounging for the barest details of his life. There was little enough to find: A school, a home address, a short article about time he accidentally blow up his elementary school gym during a science fair gone wrong, and two pieces about his parent's disappearance and his uncle's murder. She knew what happened to the Parkers on their final mission. It was no great secret around SHIELD, though she doubted Peter himself knew.

Nat sat down on the edge of the bed and carefully examined his face, gently stroking one cool cheek. He didn't look much like either of the Parkers; he didn't look much like her either. He was much darker and had a stronger chin and cheekbones. His mahogany hair was thick and wavy, not board straight, like Richard, or red and curly, like her or Mary. His eyes were hers, round and huge, but colored a smooth, depth-less brown. The full, pouty lips that graced his face were completely different from Richard's thin mouth or Mary's wide smile. Peter was very much his father's son.

Her heart caught on the memories of him. Yasha was probably the one person she never stopped loving. She wondered how he would feel about his son fighting crime. She wondered how he would feel about having a son at all. It wasn't something they chatted about between missions.

She felt something wet drip onto her cheeks; she touched it and realized they was tears. For the first time in years, since before she was a child, the Black Widow, the Ice Queen of the Red Room, was crying. And she couldn't make it stop. She curled around herself like a protective shell and wept silent bitter tears. Her heart felt heavy, sore and swollen. A muscle that has been used in years. It was stupid to feel this way. He wasn't her son. Mary was his real mother; his Aunt was more his mother than her. Even Fury, who had not seen Richard, Mary, or Peter since Somalia, had more of a right to be a parent than her. Natasha was just a stranger, and no amount of blood could change that.

That didn't stop her from seeing pieces of herself in the arch of his brow and the set of his mouth. It didn't stop the memories of her swollen belly that played back in her mind's eye. She had spent hours with hands resting on it, feeling him kick at the walls that had trapped him. It happen not stopped the feeling she had always gotten alone in a crowd or near sleep in her apartment. That maybe if she turned the next corner or opened her door, he would be there, waiting for her, for his mother.

She roughly wiped away her tears and got up from the bed. What had happened to him during his life was a gaping hole. The reasons for his behavior were a mystery to her. There was one thing she did know. He was her son, her only child, and she would do everything in her power to protect him. She was at the door when something made her stop. Almost without thought, she went over and pressed a kissed onto his forehead.

"Good night." She murmured as she left the room as quietly as she had come.


	5. The Avenger's Tower R&D Floor

**Avenger's Tower, Manhattan, New York**

Natasha swayed back and forth in time with some horrible instrumental version of a pop song. Seriously, Stark was always bragging he had more GNP than Belgium; He couldn't afford real music in his elevators? Maybe it was a counter-invasion tactic. Make enemy's eardrums explode before they reach the top floor. The elevator dinged and Pepper walked in, looking calm and collected as usual.

Natasha gave a small smile to the executive. She had always had a great respect for efficiency and Pepper Potts was as efficient as them come. Pepper's smile was only a little awkward. Saving Tony's ass a dozen times during the Battle of New York had made up for manipulating her way into the company. Barely. The CEO fumbled for something to fill the uncomfortable silence. She caught sight of the bag in Nat's hand.

"What's that?" she asked, polite.

"Lunch for me and Peter," Nat hefted the bag, "I think Tony's trying to make him into a mini-me."

Pepper snorted. Tony had really taken a shine to the youngest Avenger. He had been officially inducted into the Science Bros, Stark's genius only club with Bruce, Jane and Hank. Peter had picked up their nasty habit of skipping meals.

"What is it anyway?" Pepper asked, still examining the bag.

"Subs from Mancini's." Nat replied and allowed a small smirked to cross her lips. "Best in the city. None of that Subway crap."

She almost laughed at Pepper's stunned expression. "You thought I only ate Borsht or something?"

Pepper's lips pressed together to keep in the obvious yes. She was saved from answering when elevator dinged again. The smooth metal doors swung open to revealing their destination, the special R&D Floor reserved for "the Science Bros." It was a disaster zone again. Pepper shook her head and quickly headed left, destined for Tony's lab, shirting a fallen I-Beam and some hissing wiring. Nat headed in the opposite, which mercifully, was slightly less damaged.

* * *

Peter was sitting on a table in loose tailor's seat. He checked the Erlenmeyer flask bubbling before him.

"JARVIS, Can you bring up the new formula?" he asked the AI.

"Of course, Micro-Master." JARVIS answered promptly.

He felt his eye twitch at the nickname. Tony swears up and down that JARVIS was the one to come up with it. Then again Tony also swears he didn't release that bucket of invisible hamsters onto the Helicarrier. He had to think of something to do about this. Maybe he should find a way to hack the building so that it blared show tunes every time Tony entered a room. Or maybe he could just shave off Tony's famous Goatee in his sleep. He wasn't sure which would annoy Pepper less. A small knock interrupted Peter's Grand Schemes of Revenge.

Natasha was leaning on the door to the lab. One hand was propped on her cocked hip; the other held a plain brown bag. She definitely hadn't come off a mission. Not with that dewy, fresh face and totally not destroyed clothing. Her flame red hair was extra curly today. A small smile graced her ruby red lips. She was very beautiful. Sometimes, Peter thought about asking her out. Then he remembered he already had a girlfriend. And Natasha was in her eighties.

"So, you were behind that explosion earlier." Nat said lightly.

Peter frowned, startled, "That was hours ago. You're just checking that out now?"

"I live with three of ex-soldiers, two mad scientists, and a thunder god." Nat remarked, "I'm used to explosions. I came because it's lunch time." She hefted the paper bag.

"You came to give me lunch." Peter said slowly. "Why?"

It seemed that no amount of Super-Spy training could stop your cringe reflex.

"You've been spending a week straight with Stark and Banner," She stated, slow and deliberate. Her tone was forcefully light. "and I know you're going on patrol with Steve tonight. The last thing you need is to start skipping meals."

Peter looked at her suspiciously for a minute. Why the hell would the Black Widow bring him lunch? She seemed to sense his curiosity and was uneasy with it. The barest twitch of the lips gave her away. Than his stomach growled and he remembered he really was hungry.

"Well, I know Matt will have a heart attack when I show up with Captain America." He grinned and waved her over "And I own him for always sneaking up on me."

Nat relaxed, by which he meant she slumped a millimeter, and walked over as he cleared off a space on the counter. She eyed the containers of chemicals and long streaks of ash that covered the walls.

"Is it clean?" she asked doubtfully.

"Clean enough." Peter answered.

Her nose scrunched, but the bag came down. She started tearing at the seams to make a placemat for lunch: two foot longs, a bag of Salt and Vinegar Chips, and two bottled drinks. He grabbed one of the sandwiches and started unwrapping.

"I have to admit. When I sold my soul to a shadowy extra-governmental organization, I expected there to be more black-op assassinations and torturous experiments." Peter stated.

The Black Widow shook her head, another of her small smiles on her lips. "I know. My first month at SHIELD, I keep expecting to wake up in four-point restraints with someone poking at my brain." Nat shrugged."As menacing as Fury tries to be, he's really just a big softy."

Peter nodded, and took a bit of the sub. He hummed with pleasure. Some kind of spicy/savory meat and sweet BBQ sauce flooded his mouth. It crunched and munched just right when he chewed it.

"izz's great." He said around his mouthful. "What's in this?"

"Sausage and Peppers. I have to get one whenever I'm in the city." She smiled and started unpacking her own sandwich, "and don't talk with your mouthful."

Peter nodded absently. He grabbed the bag of chips and popped it open one handed. Fishing out a handful, he started layering it onto his sandwich.

Nat raised an eyebrow at him, "Not many people like the Salt and Vinegar kind."

Peter shrugged, "Some people also think that Mutants are trying to enslave the world and that artificial sweetener is a mind control agent planted by the Soviets."

"We only tell them that so they never check the MSG," Nat stated gravely. "Everyone knows that the government runs on takeout."

Peter stared at her, mouth hanging open.

"Did you just make a funny?" he asked disbelieving.

Natasha smirked and grabbed her juice and took a long drink, prim and proper as a pure-bred cat, "You think I don't have a sense of humor?" She teased.

"I didn't think robots could joke." He deadpanned back.

Nat's calm demeanor cracked. Loud, harsh cough echoed off the walls as her lungs tried to force the apple juice out. Peter cringed with every hack.

"What. No. I mean, I didn't, I didn't, I, I, I…" He stuttered until Natasha smacked him across the knee. One pale red eyebrow was raised in a question.

He understood, "You demand an apology, I grovel at your feet."

"No, it's okay," She shook her head, and tapped the screen with a finger nail. "What are you working on?"

Peter was glad for the excuse. "New web fluid."

He enlarged the diagram. "Twice the durability and strength for half the cost," boasting a little.

She looked it over, eyes moving too quickly to really be studying it. "Bruce help you with this?"

He opened his mouth to deny it, only to have her throw him that look. The "Don't lie to me, Young Man" everybody seemed to learn after they turn forty.

"Hank." He conceded, than smiled, "I always wanted to meet him. He's a genius."

Nat raised her eyebrows again. Seriously how did her forehead stay so smooth after eighty years of eyebrow raising.

"Hank's nice but he's no Tony Stark." She said, all little girl innocence. "How do you know about him?"

Peter so wasn't fooled. "Bout September '08, he published this amazing paper on manipulation of insect DNA to create cheap high volume biodegradable bandages. It was amazing."

Shock streaked across her face fast as lighting, "You read a paper from the eighth smartest person in the world when you were eleven? Moi Bezi, why didn't your Aunt and Uncle send you to one of those genius schools?"

"M3 is the best scientific public school in New York State!" Peter stated angrily.

She raised her hands in surrender, "I'm not trying to say they were bad parents. I..."

"I know what you mean. My Aunt and Uncle," He shrugged, "They said those schools were Government Zombie factories."

She was still displaying more emotion than he'd seen for three weeks as shock and concern mixed.

"The US doesn't have an Undead Warfare program. Try Bulgaria." She stated blankly.

"Bulgaria." Peter said slowly, and shot her a questioning look, "Why would Bulgaria?"

She glared at him again. Oh

"Right. Sorry." He said quickly. "I mean those schools make their students spend all their time studying and experimenting. There aren't any pep rallies or parties."

"Or kids who dress up in bright red and blue spandex and fight crime." She supplied.

"Or that." He admitted, "They wanted me to have fun, make out with a girl under the bleachers, and get drunk on trash can punch, not aspire to be a neurotic android that can't function outside a lab."

"They wanted you be normal." She said, tentative. Something warred under her porcelain mask.

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. Time to laugh it off. "It didn't work out so well, huh."

"I don't know. It worked for a little while." A small smile tugged at her lips again. "And you're better adjusted than ninety-nine percent of SHIELD." The smile disappeared as quickly as it came. "They must have loved you a lot. Most schools would pay a fortune to have a certified super-genius under their roofs."

"We had money. Not a lot but it was enough. It was just after Uncle Ben died that I started..."

"Whoring yourself for the Daily Bugle." She smiled.

That one was totally a joke. At least he hoped it was.

"I wasn't going to put it quite like that." He said weakly.

She flinched visibly.

"I'm sorry. It was…"

Peter held up a hand, "I got one, you got one. Let's forget it ever happen."

"Alright." She threw out both her hands, trying to clear the air of all the bad jokes. "We'll just stay on the safe topic of how you're trying to change the world."

Peter smiled back. "Well, I don't know about the world but Tony and Hank have been helping me upgrade my suit." He flicked his fingers across the folder that held his new costume. "Lots of Bells and Whistles."

Nat smiled sweetly as she started eating again. "Tell me all about them."


	6. Above Times Square

Okay, A few of you asked about the Hank I mentioned in the previous chapter was. Hank is Dr. Hank Pym aka Ant-Man. For more on him, just Google him or wait for his new film, Ant-Man, coming out in July of next year.

I will continue to name drop several minor characters from both the Avengers and Spider-Man comics. So if you see a name you aren't familiar with chances are they're some kind hero, villain, and/or supporting character in the 616 Marvel Universe.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Somewhere above Time Square – Manhattan**

It was widely known that the city streets and bright lights of New York City were only a small fraction of the Big Apple. The five boroughs are a maze of sewers, back alleys, and skyways. While most tourists only saw glittery signs and posh boutiques, most New Yorkers saw the hustlers and cruddy bodegas. It was less known that even buried in scum, there are a few sweet places that only the familiar could find. Peter was more familiar than the average New Yorker.

He had found this little spot while resting up from the super-powered-freak-of-the-week. It was just a little maintenance nook, weathered and abandoned but stable, big enough for two kids and a blanket and a perfect view of 42nd street. In the darkening twilight, the lights of Time Square sparkled like a Milky Way. Just the place for a teenage getaway.

"She brought you lunch." Gwen Stacy, his perfect, loving, gorgeous, why-is-she-dating-me girlfriend, stated, dumbfounded.

"It was just lunch, Gwen." Peter said defensive. "What does that compare to a romantic starlight dinner?"

He gestured at the expansive feast laid out before them.

"Okay. First, hot dogs, grapes and processed cheese spread does not a romantic dinner make." Gwen continued, oddly calm, "Second. She brought you lunch. And you ate it. Together. While you snarked at each other."

Peter felt the corner of his lips twitch, "You seem really focused on lunch and not the fact that the fact that I am now on the Freaking Avengers."

Pale gold eyebrows rose to the heavens, "On the Avengers?" She asked.

"Almost on the Avengers." He conceded, "Just give it a year or two."

"I'm sorry," Gwen smiled, sweet and sly, blue eyes sparkling, "But my boyfriend is a teenage boy and he was having lunch with, Oh," She crossed her legs primly and put her finger to her chin as she considered Natasha Romanov's relative hotness, "Maxim's Third Sexist Women on the Planet."

He shrugged, "I thought she'd get higher than that but I guess they took points off for being able to kill you with her eyelashes."

Gwen glared at him, waiting. Then his brain caught up to his mouth. Again. Dimmit.

"Yeah, well," Peter tried to recover, "if Maxim saw you, she'd be the um, the," He struggled to come up with a suitable number, "the eighth sexist woman." He stated finally.

"I think you're missing a few numbers, Genius Boy." Gwen rapped her knuckle on his head gently, as if she were trying to realign his brainpan.

"No, you see once they see you, they'll have to come up with a whole new way of rating Sexy."

No such luck.

He could feel the blood cooking in his face. Gwen's look was pure What Did You Just Say. He was so dead. Her head bent under the utter terribleness of what he just said. Her shoulders started to shake violently.

Cringing internally, he touched her shoulder.

"Gwen" he started to apologize.

Gwen tumbled to the blanket, her face twisted as she fought silent laughter and lost. Her laugh was the best in the world, a light tickling little sound that made his chest feel like it was being filled with helium.

"They'll think I'm that sexy." She giggled as she struggled to her knees.

Peter was grinned now. He leaned in and cupped her face, "Well, I think you're that sexy."

She smiled back at him, eyes sparkling with delight "Good answer"

Her head rested in his palm as she considered him. It never ceased to amaze him how fragile bodies felt to him now. He ran sensitive fingers across her cheek, feeling strong bone and muscle like eggshells ready to crack.

Carefully, Gwen shifted her weight, palms resting flat on his thighs

"And just for that," She whispered as leaned closer. "I got a little present for you."

The next words were just a honey sweet whisper on his lips. "Close your eyes."

His eyes snapped shut. His brain was long past functioning anyway. It was all he could do to wait for whatever came next. An ice cold something sprayed across his mouth, sending pins and needles across his lips. His tongue came out to taste the sticky liquid. Peppermint hit his taste buds like atomic bombs. He glared accusing at Gwen, while she slipped her breath spray back into her purse.

"Your breath stank." She stated simply.

Peter was about to argue when her mouth collided with his and he tumbled back under the sudden weight. She held him there for what felt like minutes while her lips, tongue, and teeth explored his mouth. He nearly gasped for air when Gwen pulled back.

"What are you doing?"

"Marking my territory." Her eyes silently asked if he cared.

This time it was his mouth that met hers. Her hair fell across his face as he kissed her. He could feel Gwen's hands slip under his shirt and run fingers over toned muscles. Their legs were tangled as they wrapped around each other.

A noise like nails on glass shattered the silent of the small platform.

Peter tumbled, half on top of Gwen, in his haste to reach his backpack.

"Why now?" he groaned

Gwen sat up, peeved "What's that?"

"My Aunt May Warning system," He sighed, resting his head against the cool stone. "If I'm not back home in twenty minutes, I'll be grounded till Senator Kelly Frenches Magneto."

He quickly pulled his costume out of his backpack and started to strip out of his street clothes.

"Peter," Gwen questioned "Do you ever stop and actively think about what you're going to say before you say it?"

"What?" he looked up from fastening his web shooters.

Gwen graced him with a small tired smile as she pulled the picnic together and stuffed into her bag. "God, I need brain bleach to date you."

"I don't look that bad." He preened, chest bare to the waist.

Gwen rolled her eyes and roughly shoved his spandex shirt over his head. "Come on," she smoothed out the bunches. "I can catch a cab from your house. I need to talk to your Aunt anyway."

"Righty O" Peter quickly pecked her on the lips and pulled down his mask. Gwen wrapped her arms tight around his waist. With a deep breath, they launched themselves into the New York City Sky.

* * *

**Forest Hills, Queens**

Peter walked down the street, hand in hand with Gwen. They had traveled by web several times before and had the routine down cold. If he didn't drop Gwen off at her apartment, they would land a block or two from his house and walk the rest of the way. It was nearly ten and the streets were deserted as far as he could see.

His house was just up ahead, the lights still on, which meant that Aunt May was waiting for him. He wished she wouldn't worry about him so much, since the last year had been incredibly trying for her.

"Stop."

"What?" Peter glanced at Gwen.

"You know what. Now come on." She tugged him up the steps to his doorway. "You can't fix everything."

_"I'd settle for fixing my mom."_ He thought as he opened the door.

Peter stepped inside and kicked off his shoes. Gwen was right behind him. Some obnoxious late night comedy show playing in the living room. It wasn't the type of thing Peter or Aunt May usually watched but whatever. The volume turned up all the way so it could be heard in the kitchen. Gwen flipped off the set while he headed in that direction.

"Hey, Aunt May," He started, then stopped. It was completely empty and Peter glanced around. The kitchen was a small space and his Aunt was not one for curling up in cabinets.

"She must be in the bathroom." He thought, already turning to leave. The electric teapot started to whistle. He walked over to unplug it and felt his heart stop.

Aunt May was on the floor, her face white as a sheet and eyes glassy.

Every fiber of his body wanted to run, scream, call Gwen, an ambulance, anything.

But he couldn't.

Every drop of air froze in his lungs, burning, heavy, greasy. Like he'd swallowed blazing oil.

Worlds swam before his eyes, colors melting and running together.

The woman lay on top of her husband, long salt and pepper hair mingling with crimson slick.

Eyes, glassy and dead or shut tight in pain. An unblinking stare. Thick glasses cracked by the force of a gunshot.

Peter finally wrenched his foot back and slipped.

The floor was slick and scalding. He brought his hands to his face. They shimmered red in the soft kitchen light.

Blood. His hands were covered in blood.

His Aunt and Uncle's blood.

His Parent's blood.

He had to get it off. It was everywhere. On his hands, face, clothes.

He lounged, grabbing a towel. Scrubbed at his hands. At the blood.

They wouldn't come clean.

Off in the distance a man was calling an ambulance.

Or was it a girl?

Someone was yelling in his ear.

What did they want?

Couldn't they see he needed to get the blood off?

Soft hands shook him. Words buzzed around his ears.

All he could see was the blood. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. Darkness crept across his world. Swallowing it like a fire devouring paper.

_Don't die, Mommy. Please don't die_


	7. North Shore University Hospital

**Thank you for sticking with my story and all your support. **

**Some of you were confused by the last scene of the previous chapter. No, Uncle Ben was not there. There was no blood or smoke. Peter was in shock and hallucinated most of it. Our favorite little Spider-woobie has a something of a guilt complex. Duh**

**FYI I wrote this part before the Amazing Spider-Man 2 cast came out so both Osborn's are based more on their comic Book conterparts more than Dane DeHaan and Chris Cooper.**

**Enjoy and ask any questions you have.**

* * *

**North Shore University Hospital, Forest Hills, Queens**

The rain pelted against the ground, rising again as a humid, muggy cloud. It had been pouring since midnight and the city was drenched to the bones. A single black town car sloshed through the overflowing streets as Harry Osborn sat hypnotized as block after block of dirty, broken down apartments. It was barely dawn and sleep still pulled at him. The driver pulled into the hospital parking lot with practiced efficacy.

"Wait here." Harry winced as the order came, quicker and sharper than he meant it.

If the driver was offended, he didn't let on. A small tip of the hat was the only thing that distinguished him from a wax statue. Harry left the man to the radio and AC while he opened the door into the stifling air.

He pulled at his coat as he hurried into the entrance. The rain hit him like a tepid, sticky shower, but it was worse when the doors slid open and the air conditioned space of the hospital atrium washed over him. All these places looked the same; Puke greens and tans that are supposed to make you relax. Doctors and nurses who simpered and comforted one minute then laughed behind their patients' backs. The fools who listened to the nonsense that fell from their mouths like they were the voice of Gods. It brought up a flood of memories, endless months of waiting, hope and despair, and made bile rise in his throat. Harry pulled his coat a little tighter, a barrier between him and these grubs in white coats.

At this hour, Cardiac Intensive Care was a ghost town. The monitors beeped out of sync as many lives crashed together in discord. One bored looking nurse manned the station a steaming cup of something in her hand.

Harry cleared his throat. "I'm looking for a patient?"

She didn't even glance up. "Name?"

"May Parker."

The tap-tap-tap of computer keys and the nurse pulled up the file, "Are you family?"

Harry glanced over his shoulder hoping for Peter to pop up behind him. "Actually I'm looking for…"

"Harry." The voice was thick and rough but unmistakable.

"Peter," Harry ran to hug the other boy. Peter felt like glass, stiff and brittle, in his arms. "I just got Gwen's text."

Peter's brown hair was limp and greasy. There were bags under bags on his swollen eyes. Harry shuddered. Seeing Peter like this, reminded him of his own horror. His father, a stone man who never bent or broke, wheeled out of their home by the EMTs, blood pouring from his nose and mouth.

"I'm fine."

He wasn't. You can't come this close to losing the only family you have left and be fine.

"So," Harry hesitated for a moment. He still remembered when Dad thought he was dying and people would interrogate him about the gory details. "Is she okay?"

"Ugh, um… Yeah." Peter was jittering, hopping from foot to foot. "They said, something about an anemic or iscimic... something." He exhaled, "Stress related."

Now he understood. Peter had a guilt complex for as big as the entire state. From the moment, they'd meet, if something bad happened in forty feet of him, Peter would find a way to make it his fault. It had only gotten so much worse after His Uncle died. Now everything was his problem. Harry pulled Peter into another hug. Words would never convince Peter this wasn't his fault so Harry just tried to press every ounce of acceptance and understanding into the brittle boy in his arms.

"You talked to the Social Worker yet?"

"No, I don't know what I'm going to say to her."

"Don't worry," the redhead broke out in a broad grin. "I already talked to Dad. You can move in with us."

Peter looked dazed. Harry could understand. It wasn't every day you could move from a cracker box in Forest Hills to a Park Avenue penthouse.

"That's okay. Right?"

"Okay?" Peter hesitated, still processing the offer, than nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, it's okay. Listen, I just need to stop off at home first. Pack up."

Harry wrapped an arm around his best friend. "Alright, I can drop you off. The car's down in the lot."

Harry grabbed Peter's hand and led him out of the hospital.

"It's gonna be great." He said to the brunet over his shoulder, "We'll be just like brothers."

* * *

**The Avenger's Tower – Manhattan**

Pepper loved the smell of rain drying.

It was a sweet, almost lilac scent. There was nothing better than savoring it over a cup of early coffee and the sounds of New York gearing up for the day. It made the hours of wrangling super-geniuses and board members that lay ahead of her look a little easier. If she could bottle it, she'd be a millionaire. Well, she already was a millionaire but she should still look into that. It was a perfect lazy spring day.

A red and blue blur dropped on to the roof, sending pigeons scattering as the newest Avenger stumbled to a stop and braced himself against the outside wall of the tower. He must have swung here at top speed. It wasn't even seven in the morning. Pepper wiped up her spilt coffee as she waited for him to tell her the dire emergency.

"I've got a problem." Peter pulled off his mask, revealing a haggard and sweaty face. "Big, big, Very big problem."


End file.
